Sunday, July 02, 2006

The end, again

Wha- hey. Another tipping point. The same as last year only different. This time, there is a good reason.There was something that RB's excellent Great Blend gig did for me. Bumping unexpectedly into Matt Nippert, fresh from the Democratic Republic of the USA and all set to go full throttle back at the Listener. I got a Barry Soperish vibe. Fatalists make good journalists. I discovered how to pronounce Keith Ng (It's Ing, phonetically). I was always too embarassed to ask. I was blown away by the high resolution version of Starlords and hearing the hitcount of the hirtherto-unknown-to-moi SkyKiwi. The excellent danah boyd spoke with Tim Shadboltian fluency on the MySpace teenage phenomenon. Nice hat too.

The people I met who, under any other circumstances, I would never have had reason to talk with. Kitchens at parties was OK in the 80s. In the noughties the kitchen has moved outdoors. You'll find the best conversations are among smokers, freaks, geeks and queers.

And yes, for all those who heard the goss, I dropped out of uni. Nothing personal against the excellent lecturers, who deserve the payrise, even as the exodus of brains continues overseas. I always thought a university is where you learnt about the universe, not just Life, Law and Commerce. I attribute my postgrad demise to a mix of the "Knowledge Brings Fear" thing and my time of the month lasting over a month. Che, you are not alone.

I have also reached a tipping point where I have told so many people I have been "working on a book called Kiwianatopia" so often, I am obliged get stuck in and do it. The blog has to go. I can't type for shit anyway, doing all my best writing longhand. The computer is also an almighty distraction. AL Daily linked to an interesting piece pondering whether George Orwell would have ever written his goodstuff if he blogged about Colonial India. What blogging brings with immediacy, usually detracts from reflection. Little wonder Orwell locked himself away to write on a remote Scottish island with nothing but a large stock of tea and write 1984. Should I start this epic tale or one more game of Alpha Centauri? Enough. I'm going dark. If anything gets too much, I'll post it up at the old Blogspot addy.